ANGER. MY DAMN ANGER.

“One tribe hosts a ‘Survivor’ first….a wedding!”

Okay, Mark Burnett. I was quite intrigued by that teaser for last night’s episode. I mean, there hadn’t been any hint of romantic feelings from any of the castaways this season. A wedding was sure to be a dramatic development. Who was getting married? Ryno and Pelican Pete?

I watched your damn show last night. Guess what? No wedding. I mean, there wasn’t even anything close to a wedding. Sure, the tribes merged. Maybe you think a merge is like a wedding. But it’s not. And if it were, that would hardly make it a “‘Survivor’ first”. Besides, the merge involved two tribes, not one. And nobody “hosted” anything. Don’t play it off like the wedding took place. A wedding means vows and singing and a bouquet made from clamshells. We got none of those things.

Somebody call 911, because I know a TV producer whose pants are on fire.

What’s up with the new Tony Hawk game? Why has my second-favorite game series (this being the favorite) become just another ripoff of Grand Theft Auto? I mean, how sad. The game that launched a thousand shameless imitations has become a shameless imitation itself. You know what, Neversoft, makers of Tony Hawk Underground (Ooh, T.H.U.G., get it?)? Only losers rip people off. You guys used to be cool. If I wanted to play Grand Theft Auto, I’d play Grand Theft Auto. But I wanted to play Tony Hawk, and now I can’t because you guys stunk it up. Why do I have to steal a drug dealer’s car and drive it into the river? It’s a damn skating game! I’m going to make my feelings clear in a bitter, one-star review on Amazon.com. That’ll show ’em!

Where does Steve Martin get off writing 163 lousy pages and calling it a novel? I mean, did he write the entire thing on the ride to the set of Looney Tunes: Back in Action? Way to capitalize on your literary cred, you sell-out con artist. Sorry, but I have better things to spend my $19.95 on. Like a DVD of Roxanne. Remember the guy who starred in that? Yeah, he was pretty cool.

How did I end up back in the lousy BMG music club again? I swear, I didn’t commit to anything on the phone. Now I’m stuck mailing back their dumb reply cards to make sure I don’t get CDs I didn’t want in the first place? Plus, I’m probably on some telemarketer sucker list. That’s it, BMG. You’re getting a nasty letter from me.

This is war!